Seeing Red
by AoNoHime
Summary: A lot can happen in two years, even while trapped in a prison cell. What exactly happened to Jak? Are the dark eco treatments truly the only horrors Jak had witnessed? Perhaps there's more to the story than the lone-wolf hero is willing to tell. Contains swearing, non-graphic torture, and death.
1. Prisoner

**A/N: So originally this was supposed to be a one shot about Jak's scarf, but nah, I ended up writing a six chapter story about his life as a prisoner. This story will cover Jak's scarf, him breaking is muteness, and why I believe he has trouble forming bonds with people. Filled with angst, torture, and death; enjoy!**

 **And don't worry, all the chapters are already all written up so there won't be any hiatus!**

* * *

"Don't worry Jak, I'll save you before you know it!"

Darkness.

That was the last thing the young warrior could remember before regaining consciousness. The cold of hard steel below him seeped into his already sore limbs, doing nothing to help the massive headache that pounded in the back of his skull. He slowly opened his eyes before quickly shutting them again. Everything was a grey blur and only added to the nausea the pain was causing.

Cautiously, young Jak picked himself up and slumped against the wall behind him. He grabbed his head and rubbed his eyes while attempting to open them again. He blinked away the harsh light and let his eyes slowly focus on the environment ahead. As soon as he had, he wished he hadn't.

There wasn't much, but it was enough to summon a wave of fear. Thick iron bars reached from top to bottom of what he could only assume to be his prison cell. The entire place seemed to be made of metal with distant footsteps echoing off the solid walls. It was completely different from what he was used to in Sandover; everything there was dirt and wood and brightly coloured. He knew the moment that he and Daxter flew out of the portal that they weren't anywhere near home.

Daxter!

Jak frantically scanned the room, desperately searching for his furry friend. He remembered Daxter calling out to him and promising to come to his rescue before he blacked out. While he didn't know how long he had been unconscious, he had hoped it was long enough for his friend to reach him.

Nothing. He was alone. Alone is the cold dank room; if you could call it a room. There were no lights in his cell and the ones in the halls ahead were dim and strained his eyes. The floor and walls felt like ice causing him to shiver and his joints to creak. The pain in his head lingered annoyingly and he felt a bump where the guard had hit him. Most importantly; he was completely alone. He couldn't see into the other cells and couldn't call out into the silence to check if they were even occupied.

The realisation began to sink in. He brought his knees up to his chin, burying his face into his arms. He had never been so alone, so helpless. For as long as he could remember he had always had someone; Samos had been with him from the start along with Keira, and ever since him and Daxter had become friends they hardly left each other's side. Even when he had knocked his friend into the pit of Dark Eco, turning him into an ottsel, he stuck by him. Just a few weeks ago they had even saved the world, but now-

A sudden clang resounded down the hall with the sound of scraping metal following close. Panicked, Jak scurried into a corner furthest from the cell's door. He knew he couldn't hide, but somehow it made him feel more secure, though not by much.

Multiple pairs of steps clanked louder and louder as they drew near. Jak lowered his eyes hoping to be ignored. When the sounds of marching stopped and were replaced by the jingling of keys, he knew he wasn't so lucky.

The door opened with a metallic creak. Whomever had opened it slowly walked towards him and stopped a couple feet away. Slowly, Jak looked up.

Towering over him was a large man clad in blue and silver armour with red cloth draped and hanging throughout his body. It took a moment for Jak to realise that the metal atop his crown was not a helmet but integrated into his skull. The man's head was tilted up with his arms folded behind his back, giving off an air of authority. But it wasn't the man's stature, or even metal plating that brought fear to Jak's gut; it was his one good eye. He was looking down at him with intrigue, though it felt more like a he was looking down with curiously at a pathetic insect. Considering how he felt, Jak assume that's exactly what it was.

The man's mustache shifted into a grin, "Welcome, young one, to my prison. Do you know why I brought you here?"

Jak shuddered at the sound of his voice and was suddenly grateful for not having one of his own. Even if he could talk, he knew he wouldn't be able to. Instead, he slowly shook his head.

"Good." That was the only response Jak received before he walked back to the door. Before leaving, he looked back over his shoulder, "I suggest you get comfortable. You're going to be here a while." before leaving the cell. One of the two red armoured guards closed the door behind him with a loud crash before following the man down the hall. The second guard remained, watching the two leave. For a moment Jak thought they were standing guard until they crouched down.

But Jak had no interest in hearing was they had to say. The man had gone through the trouble to come over just to tell him he was here, and here to stay. He had no interest to hear anything else from those that worked under him.

He heard movement then a click; Jak assumed they look off their helmet. He was proven right when they spoke with a clear and unexpected voice, "Hey, kid."

Jak glanced over, now curious. Kneeling down behind the bars was a woman with dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. Her face was sharply angled and adorned with strange tattoos, though her eyes were oddly warm and staring straight at him with concern. He was thrown off by the softness of her expression, though welcomed it.

She smiled as he started to relax, "Good, you're not hurt. What's your name?"

The boy looked to the floor and shook his head. His response, or lack thereof, was met with a frown, "Do you not remember?

Jak shook his head and gestured to his throat with his eyes stinging with threatening tears. He suddenly missed Daxter greatly; his friend could read him like a book and had become his voice. Now he was completely silent.

The woman's eyes flashed in realisation and she nodded in understanding, "Ah, not much of a talker, eh? That's alright. My name is Raychel. And don't worry, I'm a friend."

He frowned at her comment and was thankful that she seemed to have read his questioning expression. Her voice lowered to an even quieter whisper, "I'm working with an inside group working against Baron Praxis, that man that was just here. One of the other soldiers are leading a plan to break out the prisoners. Give us time, and we'll get you out, promise." She finished with a warm smile and Jak couldn't help but smile back. Whether it was this group or Daxter that broke him out, knowing there was hope of escape brought him some comfort.

Raychel glanced down the hall before jolting upright. She glanced over to Jak quickly, "Sit tight kid," before bringing her helmet back down and marching forward and out of sight.

Jak sighed and slumped back. Even with knowing people were working on a jailbreak, he was still here; still alone in the cold, dark, dank cell. He brought up his stiff feet, attempting to rub some warmth back into them.

A shiver passed through his body and fatigue suddenly weighed down on his eyes. He may not like it, but until help arrived he was at the mercy of the prison and it's guards. He slowly picked himself up off the ground and stumbled to the small cot chained to the wall. It still wasn't very comfortable, but anything was better than the cold ground.

He curled up on the plank, the paper thin cushion so useless it was like it wasn't even there. In an attempt at warmth it brought up with knees and wrapped his arms around his body. His eyes closed, leaving him in darkness with hopes of sleep coming quickly.

Unfortunately, it did not.


	2. Jailbreak

He wasn't sure how much time had passed; a few weeks perhaps? Or was it a few months? Jak didn't really cared. It didn't matter either way; he was still a prisoner.

It hadn't been as bad as it could have been. The cell was still as cold as always with the food being nothing but a disgusting grey paste, but he was lucky nonetheless. After all he doubted many prisoners had come into contact with any of the rebel soldiers like Raychel.

The woman stopped by whenever she could, and while their meetings were brief they were welcoming. She was usually the one to bring his food and with it would provide minor updates. When there was nothing to report, she would comfort him with small talk. The conversations were obviously one sided, but simply hearing a kind voice among the cruelty of the Krimzon Guard made things easier to handle. Aside from those small moments of contact, though, he spent his days sitting alone in the corner of his cell in complete silence.

Jak's eyes stared out through the cell bars, watching the occasional soldier walk by through a curtain of blonde and emerald hair. His roots had noticeably began to grow out and his hair had grown so much in length that it slumped down from it's naturally spiky position. It probably bothered him more than it should have, but focusing on small irritations kept him from thinking about the bigger picture.

His stomach began to tighten with hunger when a soldier with a tray stopped in front of his cell. They crouched down and slid the food through the rectangular opening near the floor. Despite his growing stomach pains he refused to move until they removed their helmet and revealed the familiar face of his friend.

With confirmation of Raychel's presence Jak crawled over and spooned up the sorry excuse of food. Strands of hair fell into his face which he attempted to brush away with annoyance, to no avail.

"Jak." He looked up at the mention of his name, which he had been able to give by spelling it out on the ground some time ago. He looked at her before looking down to her outstretched hand. In it was a piece of long, red cloth. He looked up with a confused frown.

Raychel smiled and pointed to her forehead, "It's to tie back your hair."

Jak couldn't help but crack a small smile. After being surrounded by people that treated him like dirt for so long it was mildly amusing for someone to care about something as minor as his overgrown bangs.

He took the thin scarf and brought it up to his hairline and pushed back the stray greasy hair. It fell back with the material holding it in place. He tucked it under the back of his hair and wrapped the remainder around his neck.

Raychel nodded in satisfaction, "There. Not much, but I figured it might provide a bit of comfort. Also," her voice suddenly lowered, "I have a major update on the plan."

Jak instantly perked up. Until this point any news had been small; another recruit added, a keycode obtained or changed, etcetera. Hearing that something big had happened was certainly welcome.

The woman continued, "We've finally gathered everything we need, and we think we have enough soldiers that we can pull it off. Tomorrow, you'll finally able to leave this place." She finished with a look of pride and determination.

A feeling of hope welled up in his chest; a sensation that he had long forgotten. He knew they would make it. Their leader sounded strong and intelligent. Besides, he was so desperate to leave, to smell fresh air and feel the sun on his face, that he was willing to believe anything.

Raychel left soon after, and once again he was left with his thoughts. Thankfully, said thoughts were filled with hope. He almost felt giddy at the thought of being free tomorrow. He knew he shouldn't be too hopeful in the off chance it didn't work, but he couldn't help it.

Without anything else to do, Jak closed his eyes in an attempt to rest.

Jak wasn't sure how much time had passed before he was suddenly awoken by blaring sirens. He flailed in panic before stumbling to the cell bars. The Krimzon Guard were frantically running up and down the halls with cocked guns. He wanted to ask a passing guard what was happening, but even if he could call out he doubted anyone would answer.

He remembered the plan and that it was meant to happen soon, but was this what they were doing? The way Raychel had described it, it sounded like it was supposed to be a fairly quiet operation. This was the complete opposite; the usually empty prison halls were filled with the sounds of running metal boots and alarms. He began panicking when he thought he heard the distant sound of gunfire.

Instinctively he backed away, not wanting to be hit by a stray energy blast. The hall eventually emptied, though the sound of pure chaos still filled the area. The red alarm lights coloured the grey steel walls and heightened his concern.

He jumped at the sound of the opening of the hallway door. His body instantly tensed before a familiar face ran up to the cell. Raychel fumbled with a ring of keys as she entered his line of vision.

Jak rose to his feet and ran up to her, gripping the bars of the prison. The woman glanced up briefly and noted his look of panic, her face reflecting his. He hoped she understood his unspoken question as her fearful gaze dropped back down to her hands. She eventually spoke, her voice coming out as an anxious mutter, "It's wrong. It's all horribly wrong." She stopped another moment with a shaky sigh, "The Baron knew. He fucking knew and waited until we made our move just so they could kill all of us."

His stomach fell at her words. Her voice shook and cracked like she was about to break down and cry. He couldn't imagine what she had seen, how many had been shot right in front of her. Their plan failed.

She looked up with tearful determination, "I can't save as many as I hoped, but I can save you."

Jak watched with pure concern as she continued sorting through the keys. He didn't understand why she didn't leave and escape. He would be fine no matter what happened; after all he wasn't part of the plan. But her; if they caught her she would die like her comrades.

He wanted to tell her to stop, that she had to save herself, but the words didn't come. They never did. She wouldn't look up at him either, probably for that very reason.

Once again the sound of the end door opening caught his attention. Panicked filled him when Raychel made no attempt to leave. She seemed to have finally found the proper key but was struggling to get it in.

"There!" Jak looked to the left just in time to see a KG raise his gun and fire. He looked back to Raychel as the shot hit home. The blast knocked her to the right and she fell lifelessly to the floor with the key ring sliding down the hall.

Jak jumped at the bars with a wordless yell. A ragged breath was all that escaped his lips as he knelt down to his friend's body. He reached out but was knocked back by the butt end of a blaster.

Once again he was silently helpless. He couldn't even cry out for the one person that bothered enough to show him kindness; to give him hope for a future outside the prison. But now he could only watch wordlessly as her body was dragged away like trash.

The hall door shut, and once again he was left alone.


	3. Testing, Testing

A few days had passed since the incident. Jak had hardly moved from his corner with the exception of food, and even then he barely had the energy to eat. He had only heard bits of what happened through eavesdropping passing KG, and it was as bad as he thought.

All the rebellions had either been shot or escaped; none of the prisoners had been so lucky. Aside from the occasion conversation, the KG acted like nothing happened. Everything was back to normal. But it wasn't.

Jak was alone, again. Alone in his own silence with no one to break it. There would be no daily voice or smile. He couldn't even talk to himself to provide some new sound. He was completely and utterly alone.

Alone until a visitor came.

He didn't bother looking up. He wouldn't give Praxis the satisfaction of acknowledgement. Jak knew it was him; knew Praxis had returned to taunt him or drill in his helplessness once again. He didn't care anymore and didn't bother to pay attention to his booming voice. Praxis knew by now that he couldn't speak and would take Jak's silence as something normal.

But the man didn't leave once he finished speaking. Instead, Jak was suddenly jerked to his feet. The guards' grip shocked him and he struggled against it, but their hold was strong and he was weak with helplessness and hunger. He suddenly wished he had listened to his captor as Praxis remained as silent as Jak.

The KG dragged him down the metallic hallway. He realised that in all the months he had been imprisoned here he had never seen outside his cell. With his struggles for naught, he took the chance to take everything in.

The entire building looked the same; it was made of the same grey metal and lit by the same dim lights. They passed by other cells along the way, some empty and some occupied. While most prisoners had the same dead eyes, some reached through the bars while screaming and begging to be released or killed. It was horrifying.

After being brought down by a lift they entered an underground area. The lighting made the upper level look as bright as day and the floor was even colder on his feet. It was difficult to see ahead, though he could hear quiet murmurs drifting out of the darkness.

Eventually they reached an area all too familiar to Jak; the cell room. These ones were different, however. They were smaller, much smaller. He started feeling claustrophobic even before they shoved him into one.

He landed with a solid thud and slid on his shoulder, the door slamming behind him. Slowly he picked himself off the ground while holding his now bruised arm.

Praxis steadily paced the small hall while looking into each cell. He stopped in the middle and cleared his throat, "I'm sure you are all wondering why I have transferred you down here. Well, I am proud to say that you have been chosen to join the fight against the Metal Heads."

Jak scowled to himself. He had been dragged down to the bowels of the hell hole only to be chosen to fight against an enemy he'd never heard of for a city he could care less about. Wonderful.

The man continued, "This is only the first stage however. Here we shall weed out the strong from the weak and see who will have the honour to gain great power. Those who are compatible with the Dark Eco shall move on while the others will perish."

Jak's chest tightened at the mention of Dark Eco and he instantly thought of Gol and Maia; how the dark energy had corrupted them and turned them mad. What could he possibly hope to achieve with the chaotic Eco?

"For the next few months we will conduct tests to determine your compatibility with the Eco. They will be harsh and will test your endurance; but they will be worth it in the end. If you can survive, you will be a great warrior and serve your city. Good luck." With his final comment, Praxis left.

The most disturbing part of his speech was his lack of enthusiasm. It hadn't sounded like he was encouraging them to be strong. It felt as if he had been telling a bunch of rodents not to die; that their death would be disrespectful to him and the city. It was a command and wasn't meant to boost their morale; they were his experiment. That was all.

KG soldiers entered from a door adjacent to the one Jak had entered. They opened the closest cell door and violently dragged out the prisoner. It was a man probably twice his age, screaming and begging not to be taken. It made Jak sick to his stomach. Even when they went through the door the man's screams continued to reach his ears.

"Hey, kid." Jak shuffled his body away from the cell across from him. He didn't feel like starting another one sided conversation.

"C'mon kid, I'm not bad or anything, honest." The blonde sighed and glanced over his shoulder with a sour look. Despite the darkness, the space between the cells was small enough for Jak to make out small details. It was another man, though he looked more like an older teenager maybe a few years older than himself. His hair was an unkempt burgundy, his eyes a bright enough green to pierce the darkness. He had a soft face, though creases and dark patches showed he'd probably been through hell. Jak would sympathize with him if he didn't look just as bad.

The boy flinched under Jak's gaze though continued to speak, "Um, my name's Erick. What's yours?"

Jak bunched his fists in annoyance and narrowed his eyes. There was no way for the kid to know, but it still annoyed him to no end that people kept asking him to speak.

Erick shrunk back with a slight look of fear, "Uh, sorry…"

"Don't mind the brat. Probably too stupid ta speak." The new voice came from the cell to his right. It was obviously female, though held a raspy gruff like she smoked a pipe every minute of the day.

The red-head frowned, then looked at Jak with sympathy as if he accepted that to be the case. Jak clenched his teeth in frustration. He wanted to yell out and give them an earful, but once again he was silent. He couldn't even find the voice to defend himself which only infuriated him more.

"Oh lay off it Skarlet. He's that recent mute prisoner. You know, the one that Raychel had been hanging around?" Another woman, this one to the right side of Erick.

"Ohhh, yeah that blonde brat that watched the goodie goodie die. Heh, that must've sucked." The laugh that followed sounded like nails on chalkboard.

"Leave him alone." Jak rolled his eyes. The kid's voice was so small and timid, it was like having a scared kitten defending a large dog.

Before anymore could be said, everyone froze. Through the metal door came a bone chilling sound; one scarring enough to be heard in nightmares for years to come.

It was a scream. A horrifying scream, one that came from pure pain and suffering. Jak stared at the door wide-eyed. What were they doing to him in there?

The inmates were all completely silent for the minutes that passed. While no one knew what to expect, none had expected this. As suddenly as it started, the screaming stopped.

Another silent minute went by before the door opened; only the soldiers came out. Another prisoner was taken in, one who was too shocked into silence to resist, before not another sound was made.

The pattern continued for the next few hours. Some prisoners returned to their cells, others weren't so lucky. Jak flinched every time a cell door was opened, because every time they got closer and closer to his.


	4. Outcry

He hardly registered the KG throwing Skarlet back into her cell. For hours they had been listening to nothing but screams and crying and vomiting. Now, as they soldiers opened his own cell, it was Jak's turn.

He wanted to fight back, but couldn't break the shock and the fear that paralyzed his limbs. Instead he was dragged off and through the sliding door. On the other side was a small room with thick walls. It was practically empty save for some monitors and a large chair with overhanging machinery.

The soldiers strapped him down, the cold eating through his thin prison clothes and nibbling his back. He felt lifeless with fear as he looked up at the alien technology overhead. He had gotten used to the technology of the prison fairly well considering Sandover was no where near this advanced.

This was different. The machines were black and sharp and he could feel the Dark Eco even without seeing the purple bolts of energy licking the needle-like tips.

Panic gripped his chest and suddenly he felt like he was going to be sick. He could faintly hear people talking, but the blood pulsing in his ears deafened it to an incoherent mutter.

The machine whirred to life as the needles turned and lowered down towards his chest. Sparks of Dark Eco snaked around the pipes before striking down like scattered violet lightning. The Eco shot through him as his body convulsed; it felt like the energy was lighting his blood on fire.

His eyes screwed shut while his mouth gaped in silent screams. He wanted to shout out, to beg for it to be turned off. The pain intensified, electrifying every fiber of his being.

His throat suddenly felt like he swallowed sandpaper, the escaping breath coming out strained. A harsh, broken sound was barely heard over the static of the energy, but Jak could hear it clearly.

It started off broken and rusty, but as the energy continued to pulse through him it gain solidity. He choked and sputtered before releasing a pain stricken scream. Somehow the release of sound made the pain bearable and he took full advantage. He forced out the cry as loud as he could muster, his throat already sore from it's lack of use.

And suddenly, it stopped. Jak's body flopped down and his chest heaved. His throat felt raw and his breath came out ragged. He felt numb, and not just from the pain he had endured.

He had made sound. Even above the loud hum of the machinery he had heard his voice. The first sound, real sound, he had ever made were screams of agony. He wanted to cry but couldn't even find the energy for a whimper.

Instead he was dragged out, silent once more. Before he realised where he was he was thrown to the ground of his cell. For a few moments he just lay there completely still.

"Hey! Hey, you alright?"

Jak simply groaned, not having the energy to give a response, spoken or not. It sounded like that Skarlet woman; how she had the energy to speak despite being the subject before him he didn't know nor cared. He felt weak and wanted nothing more than to rest. Before he knew it, sleep had consumed him.

He woke up sometime later groggy and sore. He still didn't move, wanting to take a few moments to wake up without drawing attention from his inmates. His body still felt heavy, but the pain had subsided. In it's place was a strange feeling, as if something new had entered his very being. He then remembered the Dark Eco and shuddered.

This movement didn't go unnoticed as he heard shuffling from the cell across from his, "Hey, you're alive!" Erick's voice was raspy and contained a mix of relief and fear.

Jak shifted onto his side and pushed himself up with shaky arms. He coughed, his throat still raw from before. Looking over to Erick, he could see that he was no better off.

The boy leaned forward, "How are you feeling?"

He attempted a verbal response, but another coughing fit stopped him.

Erick looked at him with concern, "We heard you. I mean, before when they," he shuddered, "took you to the back. Can you, can you talk?"

"You idiot, of course he can't talk!" It was Skarlet again.

The kid ignored the insult and shook his head, "But I could hear him!"

"He only just got his voice," The other woman chimed in, "Even if he _can_ talk he wouldn't know how."

Erick frowned and shook his head before looking back to Jak, "Can you at least say your name?"

Jak swallowed and coughed once more. The woman was right; understanding others' talking wasn't the same as making the sounds himself. But his name was one syllable, it couldn't be too hard. He pushed out air, trying to form the sounds he remember others making, "J...ja...jah-" he coughed again before taking a shaky breath, "Ja-k." Well that was harder than it should have been.

Nonetheless the red haired inmate smiled, "It's nice to meet you Jak. Shame about the circumstances though."

Skarlet scoffed, "'Least we're lucky enough ta be one of the ones ta live. Half the others're probably dead in a ditch somewhere."

The other woman spoke softly, "I'm not sure luck would be word I'd use."

The raspy voiced woman responded, her voice quiet and thoughtful, "We're alive Christen. That means Praxis hasn't beaten us yet, and that's good enough for me."

Jak shuffled closer to the bars. He could finally ask questions, well somewhat, and he was going to get some answers. He took a moment of carefully planning out the words in his head before speaking in a low, broken voice, "Wh-who's Pr-pra-sis."

Erick's face was pure shock and puzzlement, as if Jak had suddenly grown two heads. He looked over, most likely to Skarlet, before looking back at him, "He's...the city's leader; has been for twelve years. How, how did you not know that?"

The blonde frowned, not answering the returned question. Instead he responded with another, "Wh-at are t-they do-ing to us?" Slowly the words were coming easier, and he was suddenly grateful that his old friend had been so talkative. The thought brought a sudden pain of homesickness, but he pushed it away.

Skarlet had chosen to answer, "They said somethin' 'bout a Dark Warrior Program or some shit like that. Usin' the Dark Eco ta do somethin' to us. We know 'bout as much you, 'er as little as you do anyway."

Jak frowned and grabbed at his chest. The Dark Eco was definitely the strange new presence he felt. He could still feel it there and focusing too much on it made him feel ill.

A sigh broke the fallen silence, "We'll probably have to go through this again tomorrow." Erick's voice shook with fear and threatened to break like weakened glass.

"We'll be alright. After a few months of this, we'll be able to move to the training program. Hopefully it'll be easier than all this," Christen's voice was kind and almost motherly, though Jak could easily see through it. Not only did they have to survive that long, but the chances that things would get easier afterwards were little to none.

Her words still seemed to have eased Erick nonetheless for silence soon followed. Tomorrow would be another day.


	5. Monster I Will Not Become

The months passed slowly and painfully. If you weren't getting pumped with Echo you were left to listen to the muffled screaming of whoever was strapped to the chair. Every day more of the prisoners didn't return from the hell room, the number of the living steadily dropping.

To pass the time, Erick helped Jak with learning to speak. It wasn't like Jak had to learn the language, all he needed was to practice forming the words. Erick would ask simple questions and Jak would answer. They were nothing personal; his favourite colour, games he liked, simple questions to get the teen talking.

The two girls would chime in every so often, though as the months drew to a close Jak awoke to find Christen to longer in her cell. According to Skarlet the KG had taken her body away in the middle of the night.

Eventually the three months were up. Not a day late, Praxis returned to the dungeon along with someone that seemed vaguely familiar. He was a man, too, though much smaller than his leader. His outfit was the strangest part about him; it was very colourful and looked like a track suit. Jak suddenly recalled him as the man that had arrested him all those months ago. Instantly his anger flared, though he remained silent.

Once again Praxis stood in the center of the prison hallway. He glanced around, seeming to analyse whomever had survived his experiments. He grunted with displeasure, "It seems only five of you have survived. No matter, five will be enough." The man looked over to his companion with a look that made it obvious his next comment was a statement and not a question, "Will it not, Erol?"

The ginger scanned the cells before nodding, "Yes, indeed it will." Erol's gaze seemed to have fallen on Jak a moment longer than the others, though he could have simply imagined it.

The two didn't say another word. One by one the surviving prisoners were escorted out of their cells and toward the lift.

Eventually they reached Jak, who had grown too tired to resist their hard grip. They led the way down the hall. He could just faintly hear the cries of Erick as he was taken out next. Jak simply rolled his eyes; the kid was far too soft for his own good and Jak couldn't help but wonder how he was still alive.

They made their way through the prison once more. Jak noted that it hadn't changed since his trip a few months prior. The only thing that had changed was himself. Walking past the insane prisoners as they reached out and begged for mercy no longer fazed him. He recalled the disturbance that they had caused him before. Now, they only appeared weak. He knew his lack of empathy should be of concern, but he no longer cared about that either.

Another lift later and they reached the transportation hangar. Each of the five were thrown into the backs of a prison truck of their own. Jak assumed the separation was the lower the risk of them all escaping together. It wasn't like it mattered to him. The jailbreak from eons ago failed and he hadn't heard so much as a rumour about a orange furred rodent sneaking around. He had no hope of escape. His only aim was to survive, because death meant Praxis would win; he'd rather succumb to insanity before it came to that.

The truck he was in lurched forward as the engine ignited. Jak hardly paid attention, too focused on the nothing in front of his feet.

Before he knew it they reached their new destination. His gaze never left the ground as he was pulled down and led through the building. He didn't know where he was, where they were going, or what anything looked like; he simply didn't care.

Once they entered another dark room, he decided to finally take a quick glance at his surroundings. The room was large, much larger than the others. Square black doors lined the rim of the room and seemed to continue down a pit in the middle. Green lights dotted the area and gave it an eerie atmosphere. However, it was what was in the center that finally earned a reaction from Jak.

It was another chair; similar to the one used in the prison prior only much larger and much more complex. His stomach churned at the very sight of it, and the fact that it was located right outside their cell doors meant he'd hear everything. Wonderful.

His gaze wasn't broken until he was shoved inside his cell. The door slid shut behind him and he was left in the small room, his only source of light being a luminescent green bulb. He sighed before collapsing on the bed with a huff. Fatigued by the trip, he closed his eyes in hopes for some peace.

But he should have known better by now for sleep was no more peaceful than the waking world. His nights were always plagued with nightmares; nightmares of purple energy, pain, and screaming.

It took a moment for him to realise the screams were not coming from his dreams, but rather just outside the door. He pushed himself up off the cot and strode the two steps to the small window. Grabbing at the thin bars he pulled himself up and peeked out to the scene ahead.

Just as he had thought, the source was from the hell chair. Dark Echo shot wildly out of the hanging machine and through it he could just make out the bodies of Erol and Praxis. He couldn't see who was in the chair, but after a few months one could recognize a person by their screams alone.

It was Skarlet; the tough talking woman that hardly made a sound while in the hell room was screaming bloody murder. The sound make Jak's skin crawl and suddenly he didn't feel quite as numb. The familiar fear clawed it's way back into his chest and squeezed the breath from his lungs.

What felt like an eternity passed before the energy subsided. Jak held his breath, waiting for movement. For a moment there was none.

He was about to turn away before a spark of violet caught his eye. He squinted, trying to make out what it was. The machine was off, so what was giving off Dark Eco?

A new sound filled the room; an animalistic sound that both confused and frightened him. It sounded like a Lurker had entered the room, though there was none. All there was was the few KG, the two bastards responsible for everything, and the flashes of Dark Eco.

Suddenly, the body that had been strapped down jolted upright while breaking the bonds holding it down. It, because whatever was staggering off the table was not Skarlet; it wasn't even human. It had ash coloured skin, white hair, and pure black eyes. Even from a distance Jak could hear it's growls. His fingers gripped the edges of the window until his fingers grew stiff and sore. Was this why they had been brought here?

He heard Erol shout a command before the KG open fired. The bullets pelted the creature, though the pain seemed to be nothing. The violet bolts of Eco leapt from its body and scorched the ground around it. The KG stood their ground, however, and one solid shot to the face sent the thing stumbling backwards and over the edge with a distorted yell.

After a moment of silence, Praxis looked to Erol and said something, obviously not happy. The ginger seemed to go on the defensive before gesturing to the soldiers. The group broke apart and left, leaving the four remaining prisoners in awe of what they just witnessed. He could have sworn he heard a muffled outburst, most likely Erick breaking into a panic again.

Jak couldn't bring himself to do the same. Even with his new voice he remained in shocked silence. He stumbled back until falling onto the cot and simply sat there beside himself. He wouldn't have believed what happened unless he had seen it with his own two eyes.

After months of torturous experiments, this is what they had been being prepped for. The Dark Warrior Project was nothing more than Praxis playing with their lives and turning them into monsters of Dark Eco. They were beaten and tortured for no other purpose than to make himself look good to the people by creating a new weapon against these, Metal Heads.

If that was the case, Jak wouldn't fall for it. He would not succumb to the experiments and become a tool. This is not his city, they were not his people, and that bastard was not his leader. No, his battle was elsewhere and his goal was different. Even if it meant being imprisoned forever; even if it meant punishment by death, he would achieve his new goal.

Jak gritted his teeth, narrowed his eyes and roared, "I'm going to kill you Praxis!"


	6. The End Meets The Beginning

An unknown amount of time passed, but if Jak had to guess he'd say it was close to a year. A year of nothing but experiments of various kinds; Eco charges, injections, anything that brought unspeakable pain.

Skarlet was the first to go. She had been the strongest of the five inmates that had been to the new prison and died the day they were brought in. Apparently she had survived the fall but was beyond saving. As a result they discarded her like worthless trash.

Jak had been the next one to be strapped to the chair. He tried his best not to give the Baron the pleasure of a reaction, but he failed. Somehow this new Eco treatment brought an even greater pain as the energy charged every cell in his being. But something felt different this time.

It felt as if it was reaching inside and grabbing at the Dark Eco within him. He now understood what had happened to Skarlet, and he felt as if he too was changing. His muscles bulked and twisted, his entire body contorting to the will of the Eco. But he didn't forget his vow. He wouldn't let himself be consumed and fought back.

Eventually the energy eased and Jak finally had a moment to breath. He heard the machine read out the results, the fact that nothing had changed. He grinned internally; for now he was winning, and it would stay like that until the end.

They brought him back to his cell and continued with the others.

Day after day was the same. When he wasn't in the chair he was seething in his cell, contemplating all the ways he wanted to rip Praxis apart. He would have the last laugh in the end as he watched the Baron bleed dry. The very thought brought a sick smile to his face.

He had no way of knowing how many prisoners remained by the end. Judging by the lack of activity outside his cell he could only assume that hardly anyone was left, if any at all.

They dragged him out again, no different than usual. As they brought him to the chair, two KG dragged a body away. As Jak passed he saw who it had been Erick, the last person in this god forsaken place that had bothered to befriend him. His usually soft and innocent face was contorted in pain with blood oozing from his mouth and rolled back eyes. Jak briefly recalled a moment such a sight would have made him cringe, but even as he watched his last friend get dragged away he felt nothing.

He was strapped down to the cold surface and watched again as the machine above whirred to life before once again charging him with Eco. He screamed out through gritted teeth. Even after months of the same daily treatment he couldn't get used to the pain. The Eco coursed through him causing his body to jerk. The restrains gripped at his wrists and ankles as he body struggled against them.

Once again the machine stated the lack of change to his body, meaning once again he had beaten the Baron. He lay still, his chest heaving for breath and his body too bruised and broken to respond to movement.

The ringing of the Eco in his ears died down and he could just barely hear the Baron speaking angrily to his left, "Nothing. I was informed that this one might be different."

Erol responded from Jak's right, "He is surprisingly resistant your your experiments Baron Praxis. I fear the Dark Warrior Program has failed." Damn right it had.

Praxis growled in frustration and pull Jak's head up by the roots of his bangs, "You should be at least be dead with all the Dark Eco I've pumped into you." Jak attempted to open his eyes and give a retort but could only manage to tiredly blink. He felt more drained than usual.

"What now? Metal Head armies are pressing their attacks. Without a new weapon my men cannot hold them off forever."

"I will not be remembered as the one who lost this city to those vile creatures! Move forward with the final plan. And finish off this, thing tonight." He spat out the last comment before walking away.

"As you wish." He felt Erol leaned into his face as he grabbed Jak's collar, muttering into his ear with disgust, "I'll be back later." before throwing him down and exiting.

Jak attempted to rise again, but his body wouldn't respond. Instead he was left alone, strapped to the cold metal chair.

The silence didn't last long however. He heard the faint hum of a hovering platform, then a thud as something hit the ground next to him. He barely paid attention as he was too weak to even shift his head.

"Ding ding, third floor! Body chains, roach food, torture devices" The voice, it sounded strangely familiar. Jak tried to recall why; was it an inmate perhaps? But his weakened state of mind clouded his thoughts.

A small weight suddenly leaped onto his chest, causing his body to flinch. The voice continued, "Hey buddy, you seen any heroes around here?" A brief pause, "Woah! What'd they do to you?"

The weight shifted slightly, "Jak! It's me, Daxter!" At the mention of his name Jak rose his head slightly and forced open his eyes. The action was pull back by an invisible force and he was too tired to attempt again.

"Well that's a fine hello! I've been crawling around in this place, risking my tail," Another brief pause and a hefty weight on his sore stomach. Whatever this thing was, it was beginning to irritate him, "literally, to save you! I've been looking for you for two years. Say something, just this once!"

The annoyance wanted him to say something? Fine! Jak's head rose up and his eyes shot open, his vision clouded red with rage, "I'm going to kill Praxis!"

A furry hand instantly covered his mouth, "Shh! Right now we gotta get you out of here."

The weight left his chest, and Jak growled. He was going to kill Praxis, but first he was going to kill this new irritation. He would escape with the very power the Baron had cursed him with; he would rip everything to shreds!

A growl escaped his lips as his breath grew forced and ragged. Jak tensed his muscles and finally gave into the Dark Eco. He felt the energy course through his veins and change his body. His teeth grew into fangs with black claws extending from his fingertips. With a yell he pushed up from the table, easily shattered the bonds holding him down.

He got up from the table and clumsily rose to his feet. It had been a long time since he stood on his own and it took a moment for him to find his balance. But he did, and he looked over to the rodent that was about to die.

The small orange creature looked terrified, as he should. He rose up small hands defensively and his voice shook, "Easy now, easy buddy. It's," he quickly glanced back to make sure he wouldn't topped over the edge, "it's your old pal Daxter, remember?"

Jak release a yell before he suddenly recognized the voice. It was the same one that had called out to him as he was arrested. The same one that befriended him when no one else would. The one that he had saved the world with.

"Daxter?" The tension released from his limbs like water rushing out of a dam. The Eco left his body and he stumbled back as his exhaustion returned.

"What the heck was that? Sheesh, remind me not to piss you off!" Daxter looked up at Jak from right below him, obviously not paying attention to the look Jak gave him.

But Jak couldn't help it. He has let his anger consume him despite vowing not to. As a result, he nearly killed his friend, and before that had nearly forgotten the ottsel existed. Somewhere along the way he had forgotten everything that had made him him, and just a moment ago nearly took it all away for good.

But even as Daxter continued to talk, he acted like nothing had happened. Somehow, despite the near death experience at the hands of his own friend, he seemed unfazed. He had shrugged it off. It was the first time in however long Jak had been imprisoned that someone spoke to him without hate, disgust, or pity.

The ottsel climbed onto his shoulder, and Jak realised he was still talking while pointing towards the ramp to the exit, "I, uh, brought you new threads, put 'em on."

Jak looked down to the outfit on the floor. Despite everything that happened, Daxter was acting like nothing changed. As if the years they had been apart never took place. Part of Jak was grateful for that as he reached down for the fresh clothes, but the other part of him still seethed.

No matter what, the time that passed had happened. Freedom no longer brought him joy, but rather anticipation. He would not use this new freedom to enjoy himself; instead he would follow through with his vow. The vow that he muttered to himself for months as he sat alone in his cell. The vow that kept him strong enough to fight the experiments and not fall into complete insanity.

He would use this freedom to kill the man responsible for his pain.

Praxis was going to die, and Jak would tear him apart himself.

* * *

 **And there you have it; my thoughts on what happened the two years in prison! I tried to work with the timeline in Daxter with the transfer of prisons, but it was hard to tell the when's. Pretty much the only thing I ended up using from Daxter was the prison transfer itself.**

 **If you see any spelling/grammar mistakes let me know, I'm terrible at proofing. Also please, if you enjoyed, like and review!**


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